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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568265">future</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/longlostau/pseuds/longlostau'>longlostau</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Angst, Based on real life experiences, Clay - Freeform, DNF, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Flirting, Fluff, Gay, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Karl Jacobs - Freeform, Late Night Writing, M/M, Manipulation, Must Read, Online Persona, Quackity - Freeform, Slow Burn, alex quackity - Freeform, dream - Freeform, dream x george, dreamnotfound, georgenotfound - Freeform, gnf, karl - Freeform, karlnap, mlm, sapnap - Freeform, tired</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:54:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/longlostau/pseuds/longlostau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>dream doesn't know whether or not he's going insane because of the boy he loves or if it's just the delusion of his mind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. noceur</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>please do not repost this fic on other reading sites. if you see it anywhere other than on ao3 by longlostau then it is not mine and was taken without consent. recommendation accounts are okay though.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A short backstory about Dream Team before they were the Dream Team and what went on in Dream's mind.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noceur, someone who stays up late. </p><p>That's what Clay was. That's what he's always been. Staying up late, going insane slowly. He couldn't think straight half the time. Losing his mind and wondering where its gone. But he, that stupid angel boy, was always there. Stuck in his mind. Never leaving, even for a split second. The twenty-one year old man wanted him gone. It wasn't easy, oh not at all. He couldn't even turn to his best friend, Sapnap. </p><p>He once would stream to try and get him off his mind but after the whole speedrun cheating ordeal, he didn't want to stream. It wasn't the fact that people called him a liar, he could care less. He just wanted his fans to know that he would never lie to them. Nobody understood where he came from when he said he loved and cared for his fans. They all called him crazy and manipulative. Nobody except the man he loved the most. </p><p>Was that what it was? Love? Or was it Clay just wanting a small sense of comfort. He needed to put a label on it, and fast. He wanted the feelings gone. They were too large to confront. </p><p>So Clay turned to his old unhealthy coping mechanisms. </p><p>Flirting with anyone and everyone he could lay his eyes on. He didn't have much of a social life, but the few friends were always there for him. Taking him out to whatever club or bar was open. Hoping to get laid or at least a quick make out session in the filthy bathroom. And drugs. A whole lot of drugs. Anywhere from cocaine to Xanax, to alcohol, to nicotine. </p><p>Angel boy, he was a different story. Clay didn't want to ruin anything with him. So he kept all his feelings inside.</p><p>Clay’s imagination was wild. Never caring about what thought he was thinking. It all didn’t matter to him. What went through his head, stayed in his head. Most of the thoughts were from three in the morning. It wasn't a good thing. Oh, No. Not at all was it a good thing. Those late night thoughts put him in a place he had once ventured through and thought he'd never return to. 

But every good thing comes to an end, right? </p><p>Now Angel boy was the root of all problems in Clay's life. Did he blame Angel boy? Absolutely not. Never once would he ever think to blame his stupidity on that beautiful faced man. Clay blamed it all on himself. </p><p>George, online knowing him as GeorgeNotFound. Clay's - Dream's - best friend along with their friend Sapnap.</p><p>Sapnap and George were constantly worried for their friend. He would have these moments where he wouldn't come on teamspeak for a few days and come back like nothing ever happened - ignoring every question thrown at him. They never pushed Dream more than "Where were you?" or "We missed you". </p><p>Most of the time, Dream didn't even know he would be gone for so long. Only thinking he was gone for - at maximum - a day. Boy was he wrong. The most amount of days he had left for was 15 days. No recording, No streaming, No tweeting, Not in contact with anyone. Not even the people he worked with for his merch company. </p><p>Missed calls piling up over the days, his mind blank and on a different planet. Too spaced out for him to even think about calling back. </p><p>That's what drugs do to you, though. That's what having an unhealthy coping mechanism does. </p><p>He knew, that mentally he was a train wreck. He's known since he was thirteen years old. He knew that since the moment he realized he never had the childhood he was forced to believe. </p><p>The drugs and bad people got to his brain. Telling Clay to leave everyone else and run away. Fuck up his life even more. And he almost listened. </p><p>If it wasn't for Angel Boy. </p><p>The two met on a popular Minecraft server. Both coders and designers. Clay needed help with a plug-in error and the only person online was there to his rescue. They became friends quickly, George introducing his friend to Clay shortly after. </p><p>After months and months of research and hard work put in, Clay decided to become a youtuber. He knew it was going to effect his mental health, whether that being bad or good. He just strapped himself in and prepared for the worst. </p><p>But the worst was never the internet. </p><p>It was Angel boy and his stupid Angel face.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you guys enjoy this one. It will have heavy topics such as Drugs, Manipulation, and Abuse. The two latter will only be mentioned briefly in a few chapters but will come with a warning before the chapter actually starts. I don't have many boundaries for this fic, or any of my future fics. I personally do not care if it gets spread around or put on rec twitter accounts. As long as you're being respectful to everyone and don't be a total dickhead. Thank you, and Enjoy.  </p><p>Warning: I don't know when chapters will be posted because I have school to focus on as well, and this fic might be all over the place since i haven't written an actual fic in well over a year. Please stick with me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. my future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Song for Chapter: My Future - Billie Eilish </p>
<p>Drugs, Alcohol, Manipulation, and Rape are mentioned in this chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dream always had eyes watching him, tracking his every move on the internet to see if he was on anyone's stream or when the last time he tweeted was. he didn't mind it completely, he didn't care. he had set his boundaries with his fans and if they were to change he would make it clear. </p>
<p>The public didn't see everything though. only the things he wanted them to see. and he most definitely did not want his teen fanbase to find out about his unhealthy coping method. </p>
<p>Drugs. </p>
<p>It's not like he could help it. At age thirteen he was introduced to them and ever since, they were his only escape. </p>
<p>The twenty-one-year-old man had friends, but sometimes he didn't want anyone to know what was going on in his silly little mind. He didn't even know what was going on half the time. So many thoughts flying by, not knowing if they would ever stop. </p>
<p>His head felt heavy. Laying down on the carpet in front of his couch, cocaine residue on the table above him. Dream had just finished sniffing a few lines of the substance and was now all loopy and messed up on his floor. </p>
<p>He hated himself on nights like these. his nose stuffy and red, the white stuff surrounding his nostril. He rubbed the sensitive skin, sniffling. His head lolled to the side, eyes threatening to close. The faint sound of his phone ringing from his kitchen hurt his ears. He was too tired to get up. He couldn't think straight. flashing lights illuminated from the muted late-night show playing on his flat screen tv. </p>
<p>About an hour went by and his phone was still ringing. The ringing hurt his head, so he decided to try and shut it off. Dream grabbed the cushion of his couch, using all the strength he could muster, pushing himself up. head in hands, he stood up, holding on to the arm of the sofa. He started taking slow, steady steps to the kitchen. </p>
<p>There lay his phone, about twenty-seven missed calls from George and Sapnap displayed across the screen. Rubbing his eyes and picking up the device, he unlocked it. </p>
<p>Seeing all the messages from his worried best friends made his heart plummet. He was high off his ass but still mad at himself for not being there for them. They have to be worried sick- </p>
<p>"Hello?" Dream forced out. His throat burned, his hands sweaty. </p>
<p>"Dream! where the hell have you been? We were supposed to start recording at eight," George yelled worriedly through the phone. </p>
<p>"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I fell asleep at seven and just woke up now. Could we reschedule it?" Dream asked, putting the call on speaker and leaning his head on the island. He was standing in the middle of his kitchen. His stomach was rumbling and mind all over the place. </p>
<p>George sighed. "I guess we could. Does tomorrow sound alright? Sapnap's really proud of himself for coding this plugin and he wants the video done and out as soon as possible." George seemed a little ticked off. He had a good reason to be. This was the second time they had to reschedule the recording because Dream had been "sleeping" through it. </p>
<p>Dream let out a small grunt. "Yeah-" He sniffled, harshly rubbing at his nose. "Yeah that sounds good."</p>
<p>"Dream, are you okay? You've been missing all of my calls for the past few days. I'm worried about you.." George's voice softened. </p>
<p>The younger man silently sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "Yeah, George, I'm alright. Just been trying to figure out my next video on top of the Speed running allegations. Don't worry about me!" He responded with an evident fake happy attitude. </p>
<p>George pursed his lips together, closing his eyes and letting all the air he had in his lungs, out. He waited a few more seconds before he responded. "Okay, Dream. Please, just take care of yourself. I care about you a lot." The british man delicately expressed. </p>
<p>"I appreciate it George, more than you'll ever know. I'll speak to you tomorrow, alright?" Dream played out. </p>
<p>George nodded his head, before realizing Dream couldn't see him. "Alright. Bye Dream." The dial tone rang through the kitchen. He sighed loudly, cursing at himself under his breath.</p>
<p>Why did he have to be such a fucking loser? </p>
<p>Everyone knew who Dream was. He was this semi-perfect drug and alcohol free 21 year-old man with 17 million subscribers and no face. </p>
<p>But Clay? Oh Clay was a completely different story. </p>
<p>Clay was a cocaine-obsessed, not-knowing-what-feelings-are-there, bipolar depressed kid with ADHD. No one knew Clay. The only people who truly knew who he was were people who left him years back. </p>
<p>He didn’t have much of a family, they all left him. Except for his little sister, of course. His parents, brother, and older sister left him at age 15. Leaving him to stay with his grandma for the last 3 years of high school. </p>
<p>He opened up about his past — from the 8 years older rapist manipulator to the many drugs he fucked himself over with. And what did they do? They left. His dad was a big ol’ racist homophobic piece of shit anyway, so why did he care? He didn’t. Clay couldn’t care if the man was murdered right in front of him. </p>
<p>His brother and sister? Both were easily manipulated by his father enough to think Clay was a shitty person. Was he? No. Was he scared to turn out like his parents? No doubt about it. </p>
<p>He took his sister and ran for the hills when he finally graduated. His grandma couldn’t give a shit, as long as he was happy. A year later — her death had stricken Clay harder than he’d ever felt before. </p>
<p>Drista — as everyone called her — loved her older brother. She would do anything to keep him happy. From spending all night talking to him about anything and everything to cooking dinner for him on off nights. </p>
<p>He had a few off nights. It wasn't as bad as it used to be. He would just let the tears roll down his cheeks, sitting in bed with a beer. Drista would knock on his door, opening it before he could respond. She'd sit down with him, grab the beer from his hands and ask him what had made him upset. He would sort of explain, leaving out small details that he wanted to keep private. She would comfort him and make him feel better. </p>
<p>Flash forward a few weeks, they had finally recorded the video and Dream was still barely talking to George and Sapnap. Drista was at her friends house, their mom understanding what Clay was going through. </p>
<p>George was starting to get freakishly worried for Dream. Usually Dream called him everyday and they would just talk. The british man missed him. He hadn't heard Dream's voice in well over a week. </p>
<p>Dream, on the other hand, was getting high off his ass. The smell of weed and alcohol infesting the house. He had smoked a joint and had drank an entire bottle of Vodka. Dream was sitting on the balcony, watching the stars and moon. His phone rang, buzzing lightly in his pocket. He grabbed it, looking at the caller ID -- it was George. It was always George calling him at the most random times. He hit the green answer button and held the phone up to his ear. </p>
<p>"Georgie!" Dream gushed at the smaller man over the phone. George was taken aback. It was the first time they've spoken in a week and he was acting super weird. </p>
<p>"Dream, where the fuck have you been?" George beamed at the younger. "You haven't been online in so long!" </p>
<p>Dream's smile faded a little. "Georgie I missed you." </p>
<p>"Dream, please." He huffed, leaning against his kitchen counter. His hand rested on his right cheek. Dream messed with the strings on his sweatpants. </p>
<p>"I'm glad you- you called me. I was wondering where you went." Dream's voice was soft, you could hear a slight bit of pain in his voice. </p>
<p>"I'm being serious, Dream. Where did you go? Sapnap and I were worried sick about you." George forced. </p>
<p>Dream couldn't think straight, cross-faded out of his mind. His throat was on fire, mind dizzy.</p>
<p>"I didn't go anywhere, I thought you were ignoring me. I missed you a lot. Was wondering when you would call me." Dream stuttered out. </p>
<p>"Please, what are you talking about. I've been trying to call you for the past few days. I texted you hundreds of times. What is wrong with you? Are you high?" George asked, hoping to not get the response he dreaded the most. </p>
<p>"Only a little. I had a bit of vodka too, hoping my hangover won't be as bad as it was last time." Dream answered truthfully. He didn't realize he was spilling his guts to the one person he didn't want knowing.</p>
<p>"Dream, go lay down please. I don't want you accidently hurting yourself." George sighed into the phone.</p>
<p>"But then I can't talk to you. I want to talk to you." Dream pouted. </p>
<p>"You can be in bed and talk to me at the same time. Just go lay down, please."</p>
<p>"Okay..." Dream huffed and got up from the floor. He slid open the balcony door and walked into his room. He flopped onto his bed, putting the phone on speaker and starting up a conversation with him.</p>
<p>The two talked for about an hour before Dream ended up falling asleep. George was worried for the younger boy. He didn't know anything about what was happening with his best friend. He had never acted like this. Online he was always speaking about how drugs were bad and nobody should do them, and now? He was high. What had changed? Why was he being a hypocrite? </p>
<p>George wanted an explanation and fast.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the late update. It's 1:30 in the morning and I'm kinda tired. This was kinda rushed as well -- don't mind D: take care all &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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